


First Course

by Davechicken



Series: Kylux - Fluff & Angst [128]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 05:50:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8956924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo doesn't so much mind fancy parties if they're Hux's.





	

Kylo doesn’t know if everyone sees the collar for everything it is. High on his throat, above the apple, cinched tight and made of the finest, most supple and tensile-strong leather to be found. It _looks_ almost delicate, and it matches the soft tunic that dips down at the front and back. A belt with multiple tiny O-rings (that are as functional as they are fashionable) chases his waistline, and the pants that snug his form leave little to the imagination.

Hux likes to flaunt him. Hux likes everyone to _see_ what they can’t have. He likes Kylo to float through their endless parties as a centrepiece of desire, and **loves** when the Knight picks up a long-stemmed glass to make love to the liquor on his lips. 

Kylo picks at a fruit on a cocktail stick, letting the juices stain his lips as Hux keeps a hand low on his back and talks _politics_. Kylo has no desire to Politic, though he always listens because people forget who he _is_ , and think he’s just a pretty face and a prettier fuck. He likes to come out with sharp observations from time to time, and likes even more how Hux’s breath catches when he does.

A thumb over his spine. A hip close to his. He feels the music in his blood, and a hand comes up and below his loose-flowing hair to snick a finger below the collar.

Against the skin, tugging the ownership-choke tighter, and his eyes lid heavily in delight. The memory of the first time Hux laid his hands on him; the first time he growled out a low _mine_ ; the day they made their promises (owned, owner); and all the ones in between. 

Kylo _adores_ knowing how much he is wanted. Knowing all the eyes are on them, and either want to _be_ him, or **have** him. His cheeks pink below his smudged eyes, and he lets out a tiny chirr of delight.

“Don’t get too full, precious boy,” Hux orders, by his ear. “I want champagne kisses and berry red blow-jobs under the table before the night is out. If you’re very good, I’ll let you sit on my lap while we make our toasts. Pull that plug out and let it fall to the floor so you can ride my cock with no one knowing. Arms around my neck as you kiss my throat while I rule the sway.”  


Kylo’s learned not to buckle in front of everyone, but the pants he’s wearing leave _nothing_ to the imagination when his Master talks like that.

“They’ll suspect,” Hux goes on. “They’ll see your face go red. They’ll know you’re mine, but they’ll have no idea you’re such a slut you’ll ride me at the dinner table.”  


“ _Master, **please**._ ”  


“Ring the gong. Your first course is ready. _Everyone_ will know how much you love me. And then they’ll know _how much I love you, too_.”  



End file.
